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i  Tench's  International  Copyrighted  (in  England,  her 

Colonies,  and  the  United  States)  Edition  of 

the  Works  of  the  Best  Authors. 

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No.    194  ,     S 


TILDA'S  NEW  HAT 


BY 


GEORGE  PASTON 

Author  of  "Feed  the  Brute,"  etc.,  etc. 


Copyright,  1909,  by  Samuel  French,  Ltd. 


CAUTION:  Amateurs  and  Professionals  are  hereby  warned  that 
"Tilda's  New  Mat,"  being  fully  protected  under  the  copy- 
right laws  of  the  United  States,  is  subject  to  royalty,  and  any 
one  presenting  the  play  without  the  consent  of  the  publisher 
will  be  liable  to  the  penalties  by  law  provided.  Application 
for  the  right  to  produce  "Tilda's  New  Hat"  must  be  made 
to  Samuel  French,  28-30  West  38th  Street,  New  York  City. 

ALL  RIGHTS  RESERVED 


& 


PRICE    25     CENTS 


•v  York 

R  BNCH 


SAMUEL  KRENCH,  Ltd.       J 

OU1  HAMP1  OH  St., 
STRAND  I 


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I 


FRENCH'S  STANDARD  DRAMA. 

Price  15  Cents  each.— Bound  Volumes  $1.25. 


VOL.  I. 
1  Ion 
8  Faxlo 
S  The  Lady  ot  Lyons 

4  Richelieu 

I  Th.  Wife 

•  The  Honeymoon 

1  Tbe  School  for  Scandal 

8  Money 

VOL.  II. 
»  The  Stranger 

10  Grandfather  Whitehead 

11  Richard  111 

18  Love's  Sacrifice 
IS  The  Gamester 

14  A  Cure  for  tbe  Heartache 

15  The  Hunchback 

It  Don  Ctesar  de  Baxan 

VOL.    III. 
IT  The  Poor  Gentleman 

18  Hamlet 

19  Cbarlet  II 

80  Venice  Preserved 

81  Piiarro 

88  The  Love  Chase 

83  Othello 

84  Lend  me  Five  Shilling* 

VOL.  IV. 

85  Virginius 

86  King  of  the  Common! 

87  Loudon  Assurance 

88  The  Rent  Day 

89  Two  Gentlemen  of  Verona 
30  The  Jealous  Wife 

81  The  Rivali 
88  Perfection 

VOL.  V.      [Debts 

83  A  New  Way  to  Pay  Old 

84  Look  Before*  You  Leap 
35  King  John 

86  Nervous  Man 

37  Damon  and  Pythias 

38  Clandestine  Marriage 

39  William  Tell 

40  Day  after  the  Wedding 

VOL.  VI. 

41  Speed  the  Plough 
4'.'  Romeo  and  Juliet 

43  Feudal  Times 

44  Charles  the  Twelfth 

45  The  Bride 

46  Tbe  Follies  of  a  Night 


VOL.  VII. 

49  Road  to  Ruin 

50  Macbeth 
61  Temper 
6'2  Evadne 

63  Bertram 

64  The  Duenna 

66  Much  Ado  About  Nothing 

66  The  Critic 

VOL.  VIII. 

67  The  Apostate 

68  Twelfth  Night 

69  Brutus 

80  Simpson  &  Co 

61  Merchant  of  Venice 

62  Old  Heads 4  Young  Hearts 
(3  Mountaineers  Triage 
64  Three   Weeks   after  Mar 

VOL.  IX. 
85  Love 

6«  As  Yon  Like  It 
67  The  Elder  Brother 
6*  Werner 
69  Gisippus 
10  Town  and  Country 
71  King  I.rar 
78  Blue  Devils 

VOL.  X. 
T3  Henry  VIII 

74  Married  and  Single 

75  Henrv  IV 

76  Paul  Pry 

77  Guy  Mannering 

78  Sweetheart*  and  Wives 

79  Serious  Family 

80  Sne  Sloops  to  Conquer 


VOL.  XL 
81  Julius  Caesar 
88  Vicar  of  Wakefield 
S3  Leap  Year 

84  The  Catspaw 

85  The  Passing  Cloud 

86  Drunkard 

87  Rob  Roy 

88  George  Barnwell 

VOL.  XII. 

89  Ingomar 

90  Sketches  In  India, 

91  Two  Friends 
9i  Jane  Shore 

93  Corslcan  Brothers 

94  Mind  your  own  B 

95  Writing  on  tbe  W 

96  Heir  at  Law 

VOL.  XIII. 

97  Soldier's  Daughter 
9<  Douglas 
99  Marco  Spada 

100  Nature's  Nobleman 

101  Sardanapalus 

102  Civilisation 

103  The  Robber* 

104  Katharine  and  Petruchio 

VOL.  XIV. 

105  Game  of  Love 

106  Midsummer  Nlgkt's 

107  Ernestine  [Dre* 

108  Rag  Picker  of  Pari* 

109  Flving  Dutchman 
llOHvpocit* 

111  Ther..* 
HSLaTourdeNesle 
VOL.  XV. 

113  TreTand  As  It  It 

114  Sea  of  Ice 

115  Seven  Clerks 

116  Game  of  Life 

117  Forty  Thieves 

118  Bryan  Boroihme 

119  Romance  and  Reality 

120  Ugolino 

V.L.  XVI. 

121  The  Tempest 

122  The  Pilot 

123  Carpenter  of  Rouen 
lv4  King's  Rival 

125  Little  Treasure 

126  Dombey  and  Son 

12*  Parents  and  Guardians 
118  Jewess 

VOL.  XVII. 
189  Camille 
l:S0  Married  Life 

131  Wen  lock  of  Wenlock 

132  Rose  of  Ettrickvale 

133  David  Copperfield 

134  Aline,   or    the    Rote    of 
36  Pauline  [Killarney 

136  Jane  Eyre 
VOL.  XVIII. 

137  Night  and  Morning 

138  ^thiop 

'39  Three  Guardsmen 

140  Tom  Cringle 

"41  Henrlette,  the  Forsaken 

142  Eustacbe  Baudin 

143  Kmest  Maltravers 

144  Bold  Dragoons 
VOL.  XIX. 

145  Dred,  or  tbe  Dismal 

[Swamp 
46  Last  Davt  of  Pompeii 
147  Esmeralda 
141)  I'eter  Wilkins 

149  Ben  the  Boatswain 

150  Jonathan  Bradford 
Retribution 

168  Mineral  I 

VOL.  XX. 
1 53  French  Spy 

•  Wlsh- 

155  Evil  Genius 

156  lien  Holt 

157  Sailor  of  Franc 
15*  Red  Mask 

159  Life  of  an  Artr. 

160  Wedding  Day 


[Moscow 


Wi-I. 


VOL.  XXI. 

161  All's  Fair  In  Lot* 

162  Hofe 

163  Self 

164  Cinderella 

165  Phantom 

166  Franklin 

167  The  Gunmaker'of 

168  The  Love  oi  «.  I'rinc* 

VOL.  XXII. 

169  Son  of  the  Night 

170  RoryO' More 

171  Golden  Eagle 
'72Riensl 

173  Broken  Sword 

174  Rip  Van  Winkle 

175  Isabelle 

176  Heart  of  Mid  Lothian 

VOL.  XXIII. 

177  Actress  of  Padua 

178  Floating  Beacon 

179  Bride  of  Lammermoor 

180  Cataract  of  the  Ganges 

181  Robber  of  the  Rhine 

182  School  of  Reform 

183  Wandering  Boys 
1»4  Mazeppa 

VOL.  XXIV. 

185  Young  New  York 

186  The  Victims 

187  Romance  after  Marriage 

188  Brigand 

189  Poor  of  New  York 

190  Ambrose  Gwinett 

191  Raymond  and  Agnes 

192  Gambler's  Fate 

VOt..  XXV. 

193  Father  and  Son 

194  Massenlello 

195  Sixteen  String  Jack 

196  Youthful  Queen 

197  Skeleton  Witness 

198  Innkeeper  of  Abbeville 

199  Miller  and  hU  Men 

200  Aladdin 

VOL.  XXVI. 

201  Adrlenue  the  Actress) 
802  Undine 

203  Jesse  Brown 

204  Atmodeus 
Mormons 

206  Blanche  of  Brandywlne 

207  Viola 

208  Deteret  Deserted 
VOL.  XXVII. 

209  Americans  in  Paris 

210  Victorine 

211  Wizard  of  the  Wave 

21 2  Castle  Spectre 

218  Horse-shoe  Robinson 
Armaiid,  Mrs.  Mowatt 

21     Fashion,  Mrs.  Mowatt 

216  Glance  at  New  York 
VOL.  XXVIII. 

217  Inconstant 
Uncle  Tom's  Cabin 

219  Guide  to  tbe  Stage 

220  Veteran 

221  Miller  of  New  Jersey 

222  Dark  Hour  before  Dawn 

223  Mid.um'r.NighfsDream 
[Lanrst  Keene't  Edition 

224  Art  and  Artifice 
VOL.  XXIX. 

225  Poor  Young  Man 
826  Otsawattomie  Brown 

227  I'ope  of  Rome 

228  Oliver  Twist 

229  Pauvrette 

230  Man  in  the  Iron  Mask 

231  Knight  of  Arva 
832  Moll  Pitcher 

VOL.  XXX. 
233  Black  Eyed  Susan 

:<4  Satan  in  Paris 
286  Rosina  Meadowt        [est 
23ii  West  F:nd,or  Irish  Heir- 

2M  lb'  Lady  and  the  Devil 

239  Aventrer'or  Moor  of  Mel 

240  Masks  and  Faces  [ly 


{French' i  Standard  Drama  Continued  on  3d  page  of  Co 


VOL.  XXXI. 
841  Merry  Wlvet  of  Wludso* 

242  Mary\  Birthday 

243  Shandv  Maguire 

244  Wild  Oatt 

245  Michael  Erie 

246  Idiot  Witness 

247  Willow  Copse 

248  People't  Lawyer 

Vol.  xxxii. 

249  The  Boy  Martvrt 

250  Lucre tia  Borgia 

251  Surgeon  of  Parll 
852  Patrician '1  Daughtee 
253  Shoemaker  of  Toul  use 
854  Momentous  Question 
866  Love  and  Loyalty 

866  Robber's  Wife 

VOL.  XXXIII. 
257  Dumb  Girl  of  Genoa 
268  Wreck  Ashore 

259  Clari 

260  Rural  Felicity 

261  Wallace 

262  Madeleine 

263  The  Fireman 

264  Grist  to  the  Mill 
VOL.  XXXIV. 

265  Two  Lovet  and  a  Life 

266  Annie  Blake 

267  Steward 

268  Captain  Kyd 

869  Nick  of  the  Woods 

270  Marble  Heart 

271  Second  Love 
273  Dream  at  Sea 

VOL.  XXXV. 

273  Breach  of  Promise 

274  Review 

875  Ladv  of  the  Lake 

276  Still  Water  Runs  Deep 

277  The  Scholar 

278  Helping  Handt 

279  Faust  and  Marguerite 

280  Last  Man 

VOL.  XXXVI. 
81  Belle's  Stratagem 

282  Old  and  Young 

283  Ratfaella 
884  Ruth  Oakley 
286  British  Sir  ve 

286  A  Life's  Hansom 

287  Giralda 

285  Time  Tries  All  • 
VOL.  XXXVIL 

289  Ella  Rosenburg 

290  Warlock  or  ike  Glea 

291  Zellna 

292  Beatrice 

2»3  Neighbor  Jack  woo* 
•.'94  Wonder 
295  Robert  Emmet 
396  Green  Bushel 

VOL.  XXXVIII. 

297  Flowers  ot  the  Forest 

298  A  Bachelor  of  ArU 

299  The  Midnight  Banquet 
3(ii)  Husband  of  in  Hour 

301  Love't  Labor  Lost 

302  Naiad  Queen 
3n3  Caprice 

304  Cradle  of  Liberty 
VOL.  XX XIX. 

306  The  Lost  Ship 
.',(18  Country  Squire 

307  Fraud  and  Its  Victims 
utnam 

309  Kinirand  Deserter 

310  La  r  ammlna 

1  A  Hard  Struggle 

312  Gwinnette  Vaughaa 
VOL.  XL. 

313  The  Love  Knot     [Judge 

314  LavaUr,   or   Not  a   Bad 

315  The  Noble  Heart 

316  Corlolanus 

317  The  WinUr'tTale 

318  Evcleen  Wilson 

ssssss^HpW  U  England 


SAMUEL  FRENCH,  28-30  West  38th  Street,  New  York  City. 

N»esr  orsrl    EvnH/Mt  Tw»cr>  ri  ntl  v/>   Cn  f  a  Inert  i  <•  Mollwr*   Crcc   <*n  Drnin>cf 


TILDAS   NEW   HAT 


By 
GEORGE  PASTON 

Author  of  "  Feed  the  Brute,"  etc.,  eto 


Copyright,  1909,  by  Samuel   French,  Ltd. 


(  AUTION       Amateurs  aiui   professionals  arc  hereby  warned  that 

la's  New  llat,"  being  fully  protected  under  the  copyright 

laws  of  the  United  States,  is  subject  to  royalty,  and  any  one 

ting  the   play    without   the  consent   of  the  publisher  will 

be  liable  to  the  penalties  by  law  provide. 1.     Application  for 

right   to   pr... hue   "Tilda's    New    Hat"    must   he  made   to 

Samuel    French,    18-30    Weal    38th    Street,    New   York   City. 

.•///  fights  reserved 


New  York 
SAMUEL  FRENCH 

Ptl'.l    ! 


ROOM 

SAMUEL   FRENCH,  Ltd. 

26  Southampton  St. 

STRAND 


Produced  at  His  Majesty's  Theatre,  1909. 

Original  Cast. 

CHARACTERS. 
Mrs.  Fishwick         .         .     Miss  Agnes  Thomas. 

Tilda,  her  daughter  (em- 
ployed in  a  Jam  Factory)    Miss  Florence  Lloyd. 

Daisy  Meadows       .        .     Miss    Sydney     Fair- 
brother. 
Walter   Emerson  (a  Bill 

Printer  .         .         .     Mr.  Norman  Page. 

Scene. — Room  in  a  tenement  house  in  Clerkenwell. 
Time.— The  present 


,1537 


TILDA'S  NEW  HAT. 

Scene. — Living  room  in  a  tenement  house.  The  usual 
cheap  furniture  but  with  a  certain  attempt  at  smartness 
in  the  shape  of  antimacassars,  mats  under  the  lamp 
and  under  vases  of  artificial  flowers.  Christmas 
number  pictures  on  the  walls,  and  picture  postcards 
on  the  chimneypiece,  propped  up  against  the  mugs 
and  photograph  frames,  'flier e  is  a  door  opening  on 
the  passage,  k.c,  and  a  door,  leading  to  the  bedroom, 
L     A  window.  i..<  .     Fireplace,  t.     Under  //. 

is  a  large,  old-fashioned  bureau  or  chest  of 
drawers,  on  which  are  a  looking-glass  and  some  orna- 
ments. There  is  a  couch,  R.  A  square  table,  which 
should  stand  in  the  centre  of  the  room,  has  been  pulled 
nedr  the  fireplace,  waving  plenty  of  floor  space,  the 
chairs  standing  with  their  backs  to  the  wall. 

irmchairs,  one  on  each  side  of  the  table.       On  one 
of  the  small  chairs  a  concertina  or  accordion  is  lying. 

iwkk  site  by  the  table,  I ..  working  at  a  striped 
cotton  shirt.     She  is  a  ftard-fedtitfed  woman  of  the 
ony  Pur  it, in  type,  with   drab  hair  and 
drab  clothes. 

TlI.DA  lolls  on  the  couch.  \<.,  sho;,  in<;  a  plentiful  display 
of  ankle.     She  is  a  dark\  showy-looking  girl 
blach  hair  puffed  out  over  hrr  ears,   ami  COH$ifi 

rurls. 
She  i  i  bright  1)1  ue  satin  blouse, 

very  fussily  made,  with  collar  of  white 

7 


TILDAS    m:\v    IfAT. 

crochet  lace.  Round  her  collarless  neck  is  a  string  of 
big  pearl  beads,  and  her  dress  is  fastened  by  a  large 
gilt  brooch.  In  her  ears  are  large  earrings.  She 
wears  a  number  of  bangles  on  her  wrists.  She  is 
engaged  in  pinning  black  ostrich  feathers  into  a 
huge  black  velvet  or  satin  hat. 

Mrs.  F.  {querulously).  Why  ever  don't  you  sew 
them  feathers  in,  Tilda.     The  pins  '11  never  hold. 

Tilda.  Ow,  1  haven't  the  patience.  When  I've 
pinned  'em,  you  can  tack  'em  in  ...  I  wish  you'd 
hurry  up  with  that  blouse,  ma.  I  want  to  wear  it 
Monday. 

%  Mrs.  F.  (grumblingly).  This  stuff  is  just  like  a  bit 
of  ticking.  Breaks  all  me  needles.  Wherever  you 
got  it,  I  don't  know 

Tilda.  Tuppence  farthing  at  the  Salvage  Sale, 
and  it'll  wash  and  wear  for  ever.  Three  yards  I  got. 
That's  six- three  the  blouse. 

Mrs.  F.  You  don't  reckon  the  hooks  and  the 
thread  and  my  time. 

Tilda.  Ow,  your  time  !  (Laughs.)  That's  worth 
a  fat  lot,  ain't  it  ?  .  .  .  (Looks  at  clock.)  You'll 
have  to  run  out  in  a  minute  to  get  some  bloater  paste 
for  tea. 

Mrs.  F.     Why  ?     What  for  ?     Who's  coming  ? 

Tilda.  Mr.  Emerson  said  he  might  look  round  on 
his  way  to  the  Institute. 

Mrs.  F.  That  why  you  got  your  best  blouse  on  ? 
You  going  to  walk  out  with  him  to-morrow  ? 

Tilda  (snubbingly).  Maybe  I  shall,  maybe  I 
shan't. 

Mrs.  F.  I  thought  he  was  Daisy  Meadows'  chap. 
(Virtuously.)  When  /  was  a  gal,  I  didn't  take  other 
gals!  chaps  away. 

Tilda.     Couldn't  get  'em,  I  suppo 

MRS.  F.     Get  a  dozen  if  I  wanted  'em.     Ah,  things 
was  very  different  in  my  young  day.     We  didn't  stand 
ldicr  drinks,  and  pay  liim  a  bob  a  kiss. 


TILDA'S  NEW   HAT.  9 

Tilda  (firing  up).  And  no  more  don't  I.  I  hope 
I  look  higher  than  a  Tommy. 

Mrs.  F.  (disparagingly).  With  your  looks  you'll 
have  to  take  what  you  can  get.  Why,  you  ain't  got 
no  figure.  When  I  was  your  age,  I  had  a  bust  like  a 
band-box. 

Tilda.     I  like  to  see  my  own  feet. 

Mrs.  F.  And  you  ain't  got  a  ha'porth  o'  colour. 
My  cheeks  were  that  rosy  you  could  see  'em  half  a 
mile  away. 

Tilda.     I  should  have  floured  'em. 

Mrs.  F.  Yes,  you  would,  and  that's  why  your 
skin's  so  coarse.  My  skin  was  like  satin.  Ah,  dear  ! 
I  only  had  to  pick  and  choose. 

Tilda.  It's  a  wonder  you  didn't  pick  some  one 
better  than  father. 

Mrs.  F.     Father  was  all  right  when  I  married  him. 

Tilda  (pertly).  Then  was  it  you  drove  him  to  the 
drink  ? 

Mrs.  F.  (rising).  I'll  drive  you  somewhere  if  you 
give  me  any  more  sauce.  (Looking  at  hat.)  I 
wouldn't  have  been  seen  with  a  thing  like  that  on  me 
bead.  A  nice  chip  bonnet,  trimmed  with  ribbon  and 
tied  under  me  chin,  me  hair  neatly  parted,  and 
gathered  in  a  chenille  net  beliind 

J  ii  da  (contemptuously).  Oh,  I  dare  say.  You 
ice  ;  you  had  to  say  "  Yes'  m — no  'm." 
(Mimicking.)  Catch  me  demeaning  meself !  Give 
me  ii  e  i:  nee 

IflS.  F.  If  you  like  to  call  it  independence,  and 
the  boss  always  after  you  with  the  fine-book. 

Bell  rings. 

'In  da.  Just  run  down  and  see  whether  that's 
Mi.  Emerson    or  the  milk. 

More  like  one  oi  them  Mulligan  kids 
ringing  the  bell  fof  a  lark.  I'll  wring  his  neck  it  I 
can  catch  him. 


10  TILDA'S   NEW   HAT. 

Mrs.  Fishwick  exits,  r.c.  Tilda  hums  a  tune,  and 
tries  on  her  hat  before  the  glass.  Mrs.  Fishwick 
returns,  followed  by  WALTER  Emerson.  He  is  a 
tall,  pale,  dark  young  man  with  an  austere,  earnest 
expression,  and  is  dressed  in  a  semi- artistic,  semi- 
socialist  style.  He  wears  a  loose,  dark  tweed  coat,  a 
bright  red  tie,  a  rather  low  collar,  and  a  Trilby  hat, 
which  he  takes  off  as  he  comes  into  the  room.  He 
speaks  carefully,  and  rather  mincin^ly,  carefully  pro- 
nouncing most  of  his  h's.  The  cockney  accent,  of  the 
genteeler  sort,  is  still  quite  perceptible.  His  manner 
is  serious  and  soulful,  and  he  gazes  yearnfully  at 
Tilda.  When  seated,  he  twists  his  legs  into  knots, 
and  pulls  his  fingers,  as  though  he  were  trying  to  crack 
the  joints. 

Mrs.  F.  It  'taint  the  milk.  It's  only  Mr.  Emerson. 
(Sits,  r.) 

Emerson.  Good-afternoon,  Miss  Fishwick.  I  hope 
yon  are  very  well.  I'm  sorry  Mrs.  Fishwick  should 
have  had  the  trouble 

Tilda.  Oh,  that's  all  right.  (To  Mrs.  Fishwk  k.) 
Best  put  your  bonnet  on  and  fetch  the  paste  now. 

Emerson  (perfunctorily).     But  cawn't  I 

Tilda.  No,  no,  sit  down,  Mr.  Emerson.  It  does 
ma  good  to  get  a  bit  of  a  run. 

Mrs.  F.  So  you  think.  (Gets  up  and  puts  on  old 
cricket  cap.)  Wait  till  you've  got  various  veins  in  both 
your  legs. 

Exit  Mrs.  Fishwick,  l. 

Emerson  (sitting,  r.  Tilda  sits  on  table,  l.).  I  took 
the  liberty  of  bringing  you  this  little  volume  round, 
Miss  Fishwick.  Five  Minutes  with  the  Finest 
Authors.    Th-  jpnie    beautiful    fciecae    in  it. 

(Gets  up  and  gives  her  booh.     Sils  dawn  on  chair,  R.,o/ 
table.) 

>\  (carelessly).     Oh,  thanks.     I  like  a  nice  tale 
meself. 


IILDA'S    XEW    HAT.  11 

r>:T:KM.'N   (earnesfiyS.     But  don't  you  think,   Miss 
Fishwick,  we  ought  to  read  something  instruttive,  if 
:  ly  for  five  minutes  in  the  day  ? 

TIjlda.     Can't  say  it's  a  long-felt  want 

IfERSON.  Now  I'm  going  to  try  and  persuade  you 
tv>  join  our  Mutual  Improvement  Debating  Society. 
Ladies  are  admitted  as  honorary  members.  Of  course, 
We  don't  expect  'em  to  speak. 

In  da.     Oh,    don't    you?     I    should    speak    fast 
(i  if  I  wanted  to. 
RSON  (taking  out  a  paper).     I  brought  the  silli- 

bus  <>f  our  winter  session 

Tilda!     Silly  bus  !     There  is  plenty  of  them  about. 

lis.) 
Emerson  (iiith  a  pained  smile).     I  don't  think  you 
quite  "nderstand.     i  his  is  a  kind  of  prospectus,  gives 
the  list  of  lectures,  with  discussion  to  follow.     Tenny- 
son, Browning,  Carlyle,  Rusking 

Tilda  [obviously  bored).     I've  seen  Tennyson  with 

rrhan  at  the  Met- 
Emerson.     Lord  Tennyson,  the  powet. 
TILDA     Oh,  I'm  not  taking  any!     I  don't  want 
to  improve  nobody,  nor  I  don't  want  to  be  improved 
•  'If. 
Emerson    (rising).     Well,    now.     I    think   there's 
nothing  like  a  little  culture.     I've  dipped  into  nearly 
tame  in  the  Hundred  Best  Bodfcs,  and  read 
some  <>t  'cm  right  tnrough. 
'I  n  da.     Chase  me  ! 

KmkrsoN.      But  I  know  tb  ral  more  books 

•   I  can  call  myself  a  re, /y  cul- 
tured man.     (Wiik  enthusiasm.)    Oh,  M  ■  ick, 

t  mind, 

me  mind  !  r  with 

me  mind  ?     1  ugh 
when  I  was  a  kid 

■;.      (  Mi.    well,  p'raps 
the  d  :r  lino.     I'll  send 


12  TILDA'S   NEW  HAT. 

you  tickets  for  our  next  show.  Part  one — Scenes 
from  Hamlet.     They've  let  me  in  for  Hamlet. 

Tilda.  You  print  the  programmes  for  nothing, 
don't  you  ?  Let's  see,  it  was  Rowmeo  last  time  I 
went.     (Sweetly.)     You  was  Rowmeo. 

Emerson  smirks. 

Oh  lor,  how  I  did  yawn  ! 

Emerson.     Yawn? 

Tilda.  I  think  Shikespeare's  overrated.  Give  me 
'All  Caine. 

Emerson  (distressed).     Oh,  Miss  Fishwick  ! 

Tilda.  Ain't  you  going  to  do  anything  more 
lively  ?     A  coon  song,  or  a  cake  walk  ? 

Emerson.  Part  two — Recitations  by  Members 
of  the  Society.     They've  let  me  in  for  two. 

Tilda.     Two  ! 

Emerson.  The  Forsaken  Veteran  and  the  Little 
Stowaway.  I  happen  to  have  the  book  in  my  pocket. 
P'raps  you  wouldn't  mind  hearing  me  me  words. 

Tilda.  Righto.  But  you've  got  to  play  milliner's 
dummy  for  me  first.  I  can't  get  these  feathers  to  me 
mind. 

Puts  hat  on  his  head,  and  surveys  him  thoughtfully. 
He  maintains  a  dignified  attitude. 

Yes,  them  front  feathers  might  l)e  a  bit  higher.  Ah, 
that's  a  lot  more  stylish.  Haw,  haw,  you  look  got 
up  for  'Amlet  now. 

EMERSON.     Don't  make  me  ridiculous. 

TlLDA  (pricks  her  finger).     Oh,  damn  the  pin  ! 

Emerson  (starts).     I  beg  your  pard  n. 

Tilda.  Oh,  it  just  slipped  out.  Taint  s'  often  I 
use  language  before  a  gentleman.     (Takes  hat  off.) 

EMERSON  (with  solemn  admiration).  That's  a  hand- 
some hat    good  taste,  too. 

Tilda  {complacently).  Yes,  whatever  I  has,  I  must 
have  good.     Nothing  cheap  and  nasty  for  me. 


TILDA'S   NEW   HAT.  13 

Emerson   (holds  out  his   book,  and  points  to  the 
place).     If  you  don't  mind.     Top  of  the  page. 
Tilda.     Oh,  all  right.     Chuck  it  off  your  chest. 

Tilda  sits  on  table,  while  Emerson  stands,   centre. 

Emerson.     The  Forsaken  Veteran. 

He  strikes  an  appropriate  attitude  and  bursts  into  recita- 
tion with  theatrical  expression  and  exaggerated  gesti- 
culation. He  should  try  to  "act"  the  piece  with 
all  the  vices  of  the  cheap  elocutionist. 

"  Old  and  feeble,  scarred  and  maimed,  a  poor  old  man 
who  has  fought  and  bled 

In  the  greatest  victories  of  English  arms — I  found 
unsheltered  and  unfed. 

The  faded  ribbons  upon  his  breast,  the  emblems  of 
honour  and  valiant  deed, 

Are  all  the  comforts  that  cheer  him  now,  in  his  'oary 
age — Aoary  age  and  his  Aour  of  need. 

He  does  not  speak  with  a  bitter  thought  of  his  treat- 
ment now  at  his  country's  hand  ; 

He  makes   no  complaint — complaint (Dries  up.) 

Tilda  (who  has  been  fidgeting  with  hat).     Complaint 
— complaint.     (Hastily  looks  for  place  in  book,   and 
rattles  off.) 
"  For  his  heart  is  loyal  to  his  Emperor  King  and  his 

native  land." 

S   {starting  line  afresh). 
"  Hi-  makes  no  complaint,  for  his  heart  is  loyal  to  his 

Emperor   King  and  his  native  land. 
J  !•   simply  points  to  his  shabby  coat,  the  spot  where 

the  ribbons  adorn  his  bn 
1  That's  all  I  am  worth,'  he  will  only  say, 
That's  all  he  is  worth  ;   we  can  guess  the  rest.".  .  . 

Tilda  yawns  loudly  and  openly. 

Pping  short).     I'm  afraid  I'm  boring 
you,  Miss  Fibhwick. 


14  TILDA'S    XfiW    HAT. 

Tilda  {comfortably  continuing  her  yawn).  0\v,  no 
but  p'raps  you'd  better  keep  the  rest  till  the  night 
That'll  leave  me  something  to  look  forward  to. 

Organ  strikes  up  outside. 

Tilda  {excitedly,  rushing  to  the  window,  and  s'pcakiUg 
through  the  last  two  lines).  Ow,  there's  an  orgin! 
{Looking  out.)  He's  got  a  monkey.  What's  that 
they're  playing  ?  Oh,  it*s  "  The  Tvvi — Twilight  " — ■ 
that's  a  good  song.  Ever  hear  Lashwood  sing  it  ? 
Goes  something  like  this.  {Begins  first  humming  and 
then  singing  in  provocative  style.) 

"  In  the  twi-twi-twilight, 

Out  in  the  beautiful  twilight — 

They  all  go  out  for  a  walk,  walk,  walk, 

A  quiet  old  spoon  and  a  talk,  talk,  talk. 

That's  the  time  they  long  for, 

Just  before  the  night, 

And  many  a  grand  little  wedding  is  planned 

In  the  twi-twi-light." 

{Dances,  with  high  kicks,  etc.) 

The  music  suddenly  gets  more  rapid. 

Tilda.     Oh,  lor,  now  we're  off ! 

Whirls  round  quicker  and  quicker.  Emerson  fids  stood 
leaning  forward,  and  gazing  at  her  with  devouring 
eyes.  As  the  music  suddenly  breaks  op,  Tilda  stops 
whirling,  giddy  and  breathless,  and  sways  to 
EMERSON.  He  makes  a  sudden  spring  forward, 
catches  her  in  his  arms,  and  kisses  her.  Tilda  yields 
for  an  instant,  then  gives  him  a  ringing  slap  on  the 
face,  breaking  away  as  she  does  so. 

Tilda  {breathlessly).  Call  yourself  a  gentleman  r 
Is  that  the  way  to  treat  a  lady  ? 

Emerson  {sobered).  I'm  sorry — I  forgot  meself — 
juSI  for  tin-  moment!  I  apologize.  You'll  overlook 
it,   Miss  Tishwick  ? 


TILDA'S  tf&N   HAT.  15 

Tilda  (with  a  show  of  resentment).  Don't  make  too 
sure  of  that. 

Emerson.  Don't  be  hard-hearted,  Miss  Fishwick. 
If  you  will  look  so  fetching,  how  can  a  poor  feller 
behave  himself  ?  (Insinuatingly.)  You  ought  al- 
ways  to  wear  blu?,  you  know.  Blue  's  your  colour. 
(Touches  her  sleeve.) 

Tilda.  D'ye'  want  a  cut  lip  as  well  as  a  thick 
ear?     (Goes  down,  L.) 

Emerson.  Do  you  know  what  I  came  for  to- 
day ? 

Tilda.     Came  to  make  a  nuisance  of  yourself. 

EMERSON.  Came  to  ask  if  you'd  walk  out  with  me 
to-morrow  ?     It  'ud  be  lovely  in  Alexandra  Park. 

TiLDA,     Thought    you    walked    out    with    Miss 

EMERSON.  I  suppose  a  gentleman  needn't  always 
walk  out  with  the  same  young  lady. 

Tilda  (with  decision).     He  would  if  he  was  mine. 

Emerson.  Yours  would  never  want  a  change. 
Will  you — Tilda.  (Tries  to  take  her  hand.)  You 
know  I'd  do  anything  in  the  world  for  you. 

Tii.d a.     Would  yer  ?     Then  p'raps  you'll  just  run 
round   to   the  cobbler,    and   fetch   my   shoes   home. 
(Crosses,  L.)    It's  the  little  man  at  the  corner  of  East 
I     you  know. 

»f  course     delighted     (Following  her.) 
J>ut   first    -won't  you  give  me- 


Tiii>.\.     Oh,   the   money— I   shall   forget  my  own 
there'll   be  tenpence  to  p.iv     heir's  a 
shilling.     (Takes  it  off  mantelpiece.) 

.    (reproach fully).       You     know   I    didn't 

:u (1  r   outstretched    hand    with    the 

money,  and  draws  her  towards  him.     Sin-  Hangi   back 
coyly.)  Little  fl 

/>/;').     Oh,   go  on  !     C„-t  av 
Is   her).      f 

i wick's  voice  is  heard  outside  in  altercation. 


16  TILDA'S  NEW   HAT. 

Mrs.  F.     Better  go  'ome  and  sleep  if  off,  dear. 
Tilda  (quickly,  pushing  Emerson  away  before  he  can 
kiss  her).     There's  ma  back  again. 
Emerson  {turning  away).     Oh,  dem ! 

Enter  Mrs.  Fishwick. 

Mrs.  F.  (speaking  into  passage).  I  may  be  no  lady, 
but  I  don't  go  to  bed  with  me  boots  on.  (Shuts 
door.) 

Tilda.  Ma,  Mr.  Emerson's  going  to  run  to  the 
cobbler's  for  my  shoes.  That'll  save  you  going  out 
again,  won't  it  ? 

Mrs.  F.  (sitting  down,  R.).  You  wouldn't  get  me 
down  them  stairs  again  in  a  hurry.  I  wish  you  could 
feel  my  legs. 

Emerson  (at  door).     Au  revoir,  as  we  say  in  France. 

Tilda.    So  long. 

Exit  Emerson. 

Mrs.  F.  (inquisitively).  What  y<  u  sent  him  out 
for  ?  You  know  your  shoes  won't  ready  afore 
Monday. 

Tilda  (l.).  Things  was  getting  warm — and  I 
wanted  a  bit  of  time  to  think.  I  don't  hardly  know 
me  own  mind. 

Mrs.  F.  If  he  says  "  snip "  you'd  better  say 
"  snap."     You   ain't   everybody's   money. 

Tilda.     Glad  to  be  rid  of  me,  wouldn't  you  ? 

Mrs.  F.     Yes,  and  sorry  for  the  man  that  gets  you. 

Tilda  takes  up  striped  cotton  shirt  and  examines  it 
critically. 

Tilda.  These  sleeves  ain't  set  in  the  same.  And 
there's  no  draw-tape.  And  you  ain't  boned  the 
collar-band.  And  I  told  you  I  wanted  white  hooks, 
and  you've  been  and  put  black  ones. 

Mrs.  F.  Better  make  the  next  yourself.  Wonder 
how  long  that'll  hold  together. 


TILDA'S  NEW   HAT.  17 

Knock  at  door. 

Tilda.     Whoever's  that  ?     Come  in. 

Enter  Daisy  Meadows.  She  should  be  a  nice,  gentle- 
looking  little  girl  with  hair  brushed  off  her  forehead. 
She  is  very  plainly  but  tidily  dressed  in  a  dark  skirt, 
with  a  cotton  or  flannelette  shirt.  She  should  wear  a 
flat  hat,  simply  trimmed  with  ribbon,  and  perhaps  a 
motor  scarf  twisted  round  her  neck.  She  is  the  sort 
of  girl  who  looks  innocent,  yielding  and  childlike,  but 
has  an  obstinate  will  where  her  own  desires  are  con- 
cerned, and  generally  contrives  to  get  her  own  way. 
At  this  moment  she  looks  pale  and  agitated,  as  though 
she  had  something  on  her  mind. 

Daisy  (speaking  with  a  nervous  tremor  in  her  voice, 
yet  with  a  certain  quiet  determination).  Oh,  good 
afternoon. 

Mrs.  F.     Oh,  it's  Miss  Meadows.     Good-afternoon. 

Daisy  (in  same  tone).     I  wanted  to  see  you,  Tilda. 

Tilda  (with  assumed  carelessness).  Well,  here  I 
am,  as  large  as  life.     Sit  down,  won't  you  ? 

Daisy  (looking  at  Mrs.  Fishwick).  No,  I  mustn't 
stop.  I'd — I'd  got  something  to  say  to  you,  Tilda, 
bat  it'll  do  another  time.  Or  p'raps  you  could  come 
out   for  a  stroll. 

T  i i.da  (looking  at  Mrs.  Fishwick,  who  settles  herself 
more  comfortably  in  her  chair).  Ma — you  know  you've 
got  to  wash  out  them  tan  stockings  of  mine  for  to- 
morrow. Why  ever  don't  you  go  and  rub  'em  out 
in  )\v.  There's  plenty  of  boiling  water,  and  you'll  have 
nice  time  before  tea. 

IfRS.  V.  (with  a  feeble  attempt  at  rebellion).  But 
you've  got  a  clean  pair  in  the  drawer.  There's  only 
a  little  hole  where  you  always  kick  your  stockings  out. 
darn   that   over 

'In  da  [picking  up  kettle).  I  told  you  I  wanted  the 
j  air  with  tl.-  clocks  for  to-morrow.     Here,  take  the 

kettle.      [Hands   it  to   U  UWVK.) 


18  TILDA'S  NEW   HAT. 

Mrs.  Fishwick  takes  kettle,  and  sloivly  rises. 

Tilda.     Get  a  move  on. 

Mrs.  F.  (crossing  to  door  L.,  with  sarcasm).  Any 
more  little  jobs  you've  got  for  me  ? 

Tilda  (coolly).  Not  just  now.  Mebbe  I  shaH 
think  of  some  after  tea. 

Mrs.  F.  (going  out  l.,  grumbling).  I  wonder  who 
you'll  get  to  wash  and  mend  for  you  when  I'm  gone. 
Don't  suppose  I  shall  be  here  much  longer.  Perhaps 
I    shall    have    an    easier    time    when    I'm  an  angel. 

Tilda  (turning  to  Daisy  with  a  defiant  air).  Well, 
what  is  it  ? 

Daisy  comes  down,  and  stands  r.c,  facing  Tilda,  who 
sits  on  table  swinging  her  legs.  Daisy  is  evidently 
strung  up,  and  speaks  in  a  quiet,  tense  voice,  with  a 
tremor  suggestive  of  the  feeling  she  is  holding  in .  A  s  the 
scene  proceeds,  her  hold  on  herself  gradually  relaxes, 
and  she  grows  more  agitated  till  the  tears  come.  Tilda 
preserves  an  air  of  impudent  coolness. 

Daisy.     Mr.  Emerson's  been  here. 

Tilda.     He  has. 

Daisy.     He  tea'd  with  you  last  Saturday. 

Tilda.     He  did. 

Daisy.     And  he  saw  you  home  from  the   - 
Monday  night. 

Tilda.     That's  so. 

Daisy.  You're  going  to  walk  out  with  him  to- 
morrow. 

Tilda.     I  am. 

Daisy  (bitterly).     I  wonder  you  ain't  ashamed. 

Tilda  (turning  on  her).     Well,  1  aint. 

DAISY  (with  increasing  agitation).  We've  been 
walking  out  for  month-.  K\  <  rylxxly  knew  he  was 
my  chap    — 

Tilda    gives    an    aggravating    little    laugh. 


TILDA'S    NKW     HAT  19 

But  of  course,  if  a  girl  throws  herself  at  a  young 
feller's  head 

Tilda.  Oh,  shocking!  I  shouldn't  have  thought 
it  of  you,  Daisy. 

1).\i>y  (beginning  to  melt,  and  subsiding  into  chair, 

r.).     And  we  wasn't  pflly  walking  out.     We'd  settled 

t  married  as  soon  as  he'd  got  his  rise.     {Sniff.) 

I  begun  to  get  the  home  together.     I'd  bought  a 

pair  of  cut  glass  dishes.     (On  last  word  her  voice  rises 

sob.) 

Tilda  (who  has  been  ahistling  and  sicinging  her  legs, 
suddenly  stops,  as  though  impressed  in  spite  of  herself). 
Oh— I  didn't  know  that.  I  did  not  know  you'ld 
pcgun  to  get  the  home  together. 

Daisv.  I'd  begun  to  make  my  underthings.  And 
now  they "11  be  wasted.  I  couldn't  wear  'em  for 
common.     (Sob.) 

Tilda  (getting  off  table,  and  crossing  to  her).  Oh, 
fpx  <iawd'>  >ake,  don't  keep  snivelling.  Mr.  Emerson 
ain't  the  only  kipper  on  the  barrer.  There's  plenty  of 
3    about. 

DAISY.  .But  not  like  Walter.  He's  so  inteHntel- 
lectual.  They  think  all  the  world  of  him  at  the  Insti- 
tute ;  and  he  >aid— he  said  he  was  going  to  form  my 
mind.      (Sob.) 

1  ii  da  [sotto  voce).     You've  got  to  get  one  fust 

uAtSY.  And  so  uentldiianly  !  Always  takes  tin- 
out  side  of  the  pavement  when  walking — always  lifts 
hi-  hat  at  parting  and  keeps  lii-  naiU  £0  beautiful 

Tilda  (sbwly,  and  with  lingering  regret).  Yes,  no 
rsqn  ain't  quit;?  the  gentleman. 

I).\:  call  me  his  little  floweret 

Tit  da  turns  her  head  sharply. 

,u    no-   :  might  now.     (Chokes. 

I  know  you're 

mon  tha/i  what  I  am.     Mother's  kept  me  that 

1   d.e  ith  a  curious  glance) — if  /  had 

a   hat  like  that 


20  TILDA'S   XFTW    HAT. 

Tilda.  Hoh,  you  think  Mr.  Emerson  comes  after 
me  hat  and  feathers,  do  you  ? 

Daisy.  Yes,  and  your  dressy  blowse,  and  your 
padded  hair. 

Tilda.  It  ain't  padded.  .  .  .  Well,  why  don't 
you  get  yourself  up  more  stylish  ?  Look  at  that  hat 
now !  You  can't  expect  a  superior  young  feller  like 
Mr.  Emerson  to  walk  out  with  a  hat  like  that. 

Daisy  {plaintively).  I  ain't  got  no  long  black 
feathers. 

Tilda.  Why  ever  don't  you  belong  to  a  feather 
club,  same  as  me  and  other  girls  ? 

Daisy.     Mother  don't  think  it's  nice. 

Tilda.  Nice  be  blowed  !  You  earn  your  own 
money,  don't  you  ?  You  should  have  brought  your 
ma  up  same  as  I've  brought  mine.  .  .  .  Give  me  some- 
thing with  a  bit  of  a  dash  about  it.      This  hat  now 

(Putting  it  on.) 

Daisy.  Ow,  it  is  beautiful !  I  should  love  to  wear 
a  hat  like  that. 

Tilda.  Would  yer  ?  Try  it  on.  Here,  take  the 
pin  out. 

Daisy  removes  her  hat,  and  Tilda  put  the  big  hat  on 
Daisy's  head. 

Lor,  don't  it  look  a  sight  on  your  little  flat  head  ? 
Why  ever  don't  you  fluff  your  hair  out  a  bit  ? 

Daisy.     Mother  don't  think  it's  genteel. 

Tilda.  Genteel  be  blowed  !  Come  on.  Sit  right 
here.  Hold  still  a  minute.  (Takes  hairpins  out  of 
Daisy's  hair,  and  brings  forward  front  part.)  My !  it's 
as  soft  as  silk,  but  it  don't  make  no  show.  Pads  is 
what  you  want.     I've  got  a  pompadour  somewhere. 

Daisy.     A  pompey  what  ? 

Tilda  (opens  drawer,  and  takes  out  hair  frame  and 
comb.  Pins  frame  on  Daisy's  head,  and  rolls  her  hai; 
jver  it,  talking  all  the  time).  Now,  my  hair — I  j  j»t 
toll  it  round  me  fingers,  pop  the  combs  in,  and  it  rtidkf 
«>ut  like  wires. 


TILDA'S   NEW   HAT.  21 

Daisy  squeaks. 

Now  then — did  I  pull  you  ?  All  done  by  kindness. 
Will  you  have  it  one  curl,  or  two  ?  1  his  is  going 
to  be.  a  little  bit  of  all  right. 

Daisy.     Don't  make  me  look  fast,  dear. 

Tilda  (standing  back).  There,  that's  something 
like — though  I  say  it.  Run  and  look  at  yourself.  .  .  . 
I'll  show  you  something.  (Quickly  takes  out  her  own 
combs  or  pins,  talking  all  the  time,  and  flattens  her  front 
hair  back,  leaving  her  forehead  bare.)  This  is  how  you 
walk  out  with  a  chap.  Fit  to  scare  the  motor-busses. 
Ever  see  a  suffragette  after  a  kick-up  with  a  police- 
man ?  The  latest  fashions  for  'Olloway,  the  new 
winter  health  resort.     Votes  for  women  ! 

Daisy.     Oh,  you  are  a  cure. 

By  this  time  Tilda  should  have  finished  business  with 
hair. 

Look  at  me  now.     There's  an  objeck-lesson  for  you. 
Daisy  (giggling).     Oh,  Tilda,  you  do  look  a  guy. 
TtLDA  (putting  the  big  hat  on  Daisy  again).    Now 
the  blowse  is  all  wrong.     Wherever  did  you  get  that 
measly  little  blowse  ? 

Daisy.     Mother  chose  it. 

I  n .da  (sniffs).  So  I  should  have  guessed.  What 
yu  think  of  mine  ? 

DAISY    [with    enthusiasm).      It's   perfectly   sweet. 
dressy,   and    yet  so  chaste.      I  should  love  to 
•   a  blowse  like  that. 
I  ii  DA.     Would  yer  ?     You  can  try  it  on  if  you  like. 
li'-l j >  me  off  with  this.     Hurry  up. 

v  unhooh  Tilda's  blouse.    Tilda  takes 
it  a  pink  woven  petticoat-body.     She 

hci,  ,t.  talking  all  the  time. 

for  you.   bu1   it'll  go  on  over  your  own- 
ight  '.    Wl  '1"  yu  put  your 


22  TILDA'S   NEW  HAT. 

dinner  ?  Hold  still.  Blessed  if  you  don't  wriggle 
like  a  flea  on  a  hot  plate.  Blow  these  hooks — wher- 
ever ma  gets  'em  ! — and  these  eyes  have  got  the 
squint.  There — that's  the  last.  Now  run  and  look 
at  yourself  in  the  glass. 

Daisy  (running  across  to  glass  on  wall,  l.,  and  survey- 
ing herself).     Ow,  I  do  look  nice  ! 

Tilda  (putting  on  striped  cotton  shirt  her  mother  has 
been  working  at).  Bit  of  style  about  you  now.  That's 
a  dressy  blouse,  I  will  say.  (Looking  at  Daisy's  hat.) 
This  hat  of  yours  ain't  such  a  bad  shape.  I  could 
trim  it  up  so's  you  wouldn't  know  it. 

Daisy  (eagerly).     Could  you  ? 

Tilda  (hesitates,  looking  from  one  hat  to  the  other). 

I — er — let's  see  now — p'raps (With  a  sudden  out 

burst  of  generosity.)  Tell  yer  what  it  is,  if  you'll  leave 
that  old  thing  behind,  I'll  lend  you  my  hat  to  take  you 
over  Sunday. 

Daisy  (with  rapture,  yet  hardly  able  to  believe  in  her 
own  good  fortune).  Oh,  Tilda,  you  wouldn't  really  ! 
You  can't  mean  it?  Reely?  (Crestfallen.)  But  I 
ain't  got  a  blowse  fit  to  go  with  it. 

Tilda,  (impatiently).  Then  set  to  work  and  make 
one,  or  get  your  ma  to  do  it. 

Daisy  (sadly).     I  ain't  got  a  pattern. 

Tilda.     You  don't  seem  to  have  got  much.  Never 

saw  such  a  little  bit  of  gawd-'elp-us.    I (Hesitates, 

eyeing  the  smart  blouse,  and  looking  down  at  her 
shirt.)   I — um — I'll — no,  I  wo (Willi  another  splen- 
did outburst  of  generosity.)     Tell  yer  what    it    is     I'll 
lend  you  that  blowse  to  take  the  pattern  off  of. 

Daisy  (with  agonized  longing).  Oh,  Tilda,  but  I 
reely  couldn't 

Tilda  (mimicking  her).  Ow,  Daisy,  but  you  reelly 
could.  .  .  .  It's  all  right:  I  can  wear  my  pink 
velveteen,  and  my  second-best  hat  with  the  parrakeet 
trimming.      It's  better  than  most  girls'  1  •■ 

Daisy.     Oh,  you  are  an  old  dee-ar  !     (Kisses  her. 


TILDA'S   XEW   HAT.  23 

With  sudden  recollection.)  But  whatever  shall  I  say 
to  mother  ? 

Tilda.  Tell  her  to  go  and  put  her  head  in  a  bag — 
the  old  blighter.  {Takes  concertina  from  hook  on  wall.) 
Didn't  you  say  you'd  been  practising  for  the  Choral. 
What  you  k'oing  to  sing  ? 

Daisy.  "  It's  only  a  Beautiful  Picture — in  a  beau- 
tiful Golden  Frame." 

Tilda.  Tune  the  old  cow  died  of.  {Makes  noises 
uith  the  concertina.)     Let's  have  a  verse. 

Knock,  and  enter  Emerson  quickly. 

Kmfrson.     The  man   says  your  shoes  won't   be 

ready  till — oh (    Stops  short  in  dismay.)     Oh,    beg 

pfkffdon  - 1  didn't  see {J aw  drops  at  finding  himself 

een  the  l<vo  girls,  and  he  looks  as  though  he  meant  to 
bolt. ) 

Tilda  {easily).  Miss  Meadows  has  just  called  round 
to  have  a  practice  for  the  Choral. 

:\a<  -on  {in  great  confusion  and  discomfort).  Daisy 

M  for  the  moment  I  didn't  hardly 

(Looking  from  one  to  the  other.)     Why — you — you've 

t>een  and  changed 

Tilda  {readily  and  fluently,  going  up  to  back).     I'm 

trim  up  I  Lhd  I've  lent  her  mine 

■  r  over  Sunday.      It's  my  first  commission  in 

the   millinery   lii;<-.      I    sljaj]    be   setting  up  in    Bond 

i iid  cutting  out  the  Countesses.     (Takes 

'//  of  pink  ribbon  out  of  nut  cqmes  fawn  to 

>  has  been  standing,  R.,  with  his  eyes  glued 

OM  DAISY,  WHO  sits  r...  looking  self  conscious  and  happy. 

Til  I  the  shoulders,  and  pushes  him  donii  ) 

sit  down,  Mr.  Emerson,  I  want  my  dummy  again. 

Puts  DAISY'S  hat  on  his  he  ists  ribbon  round 

it,  fytrtg  it  into  big  loose  bow  in  front. 

There,  witn  .1  couple  ol  oi   (fits  ribbon — three- 

ie— and  a  paradise  mount— and 


24  TILDA'S   NEW   HAT. 

a  bunch  of  cherries — and  a  cut  steel  buckle,  yon 
wouldn't  know  this  hat  again.  (Backs  a  little  to  see 
the  effect  of  her  handiwork,  and  laughs.)  What  price 
Rowmeo  now  ! 

Emerson  (with  dignity).  Have  you  quite  done, 
Miss  Fishwick  ? 

Tilda  (removing  the  hat).  Yes,  thanks.  Mr. 
Emerson,  you  make  a  first-class  dummy. 

Emerson  (looking  with  'indisguised  admiration  at 
Daisy).  I  should  hardly  have  known  you,  Daisy. 
You  ought  always  to  dress  like  that.  Blue's  your 
colour. 

Daisy  bridles. 

Tilda  (draws  a  wail  out  of  concertina).  You 
going  to  the  Choral,  Mr.  Emerson  ?  Daisy  is  going 
to  sing  V  It's  only  a  beautiful  picture — in  a  beautiful 
golden  frame."     Come  on,  Daisy,  let's  have  a  verse. 

Daisy  (clearing  her  throat).  Ovv,  I  couldn't,  I've 
got  such  a  shocking  cold. 

Emerson  (encouragingly).  Yes,  give  us  a  verse, 
Daisy — that's  my  favourite  song. 

Tilda  (boisterously).  Oh,  go  on  !  Don't  be  bash- 
ful. Goes  something  like  this,  don't  it  ?  (Makes  a 
weird  flourish  with  concertina.) 

Daisy  (gently).  I  think  I  could  do  it  b^st  alone, 
Tilda. 

Tilda.     Oh,  all  right— all  right. 


Stands  centre,  behind  the  other  two,  gently  waving  con- 
certina in  time  to  the  song.  Emerson  sits,  with  Jus 
eyes  on  Daisy.  During  the  last  lines  he  should  mark 
time  with  his  head  or  hat,  as  though  moved.  Daisy 
sits  demurely  on  her  chair,  with  her  feet  crossed,  and 
her  hands  clasped,  and  sings  in  a  careful  childlike 
manner,  with  a  little  thread  of  a  voice. 


TILDA'S   NEW   HAT.  25 

Daisy  {sings) — 

"  If  those  lips  could  only  speak, 

If  those  eyes  could  only  see, 

If  those  beautiful  gowlden  tresses 

Were  there  in  realitec. 

If  I  could  but  take  your  hand, 

As  I  did  when  you  took  my  name — 

(With  sentiment.) 
But  it's  only  a  beautiful  Pic-ture 
In  a  bewtiful — gowlden  Frame." 

As  she  stops,  there  is  a  faint  sigh  of  pleasurable  emotion 
from  the  other  two. 

Tilda  (throwing  off  the  touch  of  sentiment  into  which 
she  has  been  betrayed).  That's  something  like,  ain't 
it  ?  Knocks  spots  out  of  Shakespeare  and  the  im- 
proving lecture. 

Daisy.  Oh,  I  think  Shakespeare's  sweet.  (With 
a  glance  at  Emerson.)     And  I  do  love  the  lectures. 

kson  (jumping  up,  and  crossing  to  her).     I've 
the  new  syllabus  here.     I'll  show  you  ;  Tennyson 

— Browning 

Daisy.  Tennyson's  my  favourite.  I  can  say  the 
Queen  o'  the  May  right  through. 

Tilda.  You'll  stop  to  tea,  both  of  you.  We've 
got  some  bloater  paste,  and  ma'll  make  us  all  some 
buttered  I 

Daisy.     No,    I   must   be   getting   home.     I   told 
mother  1  was  only  running  out  to  the  post 
I'll  see  you  home] 
v  {stiffly).     Oh,  pray  don't  trouble,  Mr.  Emer- 
I'm  used  to  walking  alone. 
rson.     It's  hardly  a  step  out  of  my  way. 
Tilda  (to  Daisy).     You'd  besl  sew  them  lathers 
in.  Daisy.    They're  a  bit  wobbly,  and  whatever  you 
dont  l<-t  'em  pot  oi  rain, 

I'd  be  drowned  myseli  sooner. 
in  da  enlmsiastically, 


26  TILDA'S   NEW   HAT. 

first  on  one  cheek,  then  on  the  other.)  I  do  think  it's 
so  sweet  of  you.     (Kissing.) 

Tilda  (impatiently).  Oh,  all  right — that'll  do. 
(Pushing  her  aside.)  Good-bye,  Daisy,  good-bye,  Mr. 
Emerson.  (Going  up.)  I  don't  think  I'll  join  your 
Mutual  Improvement  Society,  thank  you  all  the  same. 
I'm  afraid  of  being  improved  right  away. 

Emerson  (coldly).  Good-evening,  Miss  Fishwick, 
I  think  it's  a  pity  when  young  ladies  have  no  desire 
for  culture.  Now  Daisy  is  beginning  to  form  a  very 
correct  taste.  She  can  always  perceive  the  clever 
bits  I  point  out  to  her,  can't  you,  Daisy  ? 

Daisy  (looking  up  at  him).  Yes,  Walter.  Good- 
bye, Tilda.  (This  should  be  spoken  sweetly  over  her 
shoulder.) 

Emerson  hjolds  open  the  door  for  Daisy,  who  peacocks 
out,  followed  by  Emerson.  Tilda  stands  still  for  a 
moment.     Then  dashes  down  concertina,  and  calls. 

Tilda.     Ma,  you  can  come  out  now. 

Enter  Mrs.  Fishwick. 

Mrs.  F.  (grumbling).  Time  I  did.  (Catches  sight 
of  Tilda  and  starts.)  Lord  a'mighty,  whatever  you 
been  and  done  to  yourself  ? 

TlLDA  (shortly).  Trying  a  new  style  of  hair- 
dressing. 

Mrs.  F.  (hanging  Ian  stockings  from  chimney-piece, 
and  beginning  to  busy  herself  with  the  tea-things). 
Better  not  try  that  too  often,  or  you  might  crack  the 
glass.  You  couldn't  help  being  born  homely,  but 
you  needn't  go  and  turn  y  .t<>  a  regular  Aunt 

Sally. 

'1 ILDA  {looking  out  of  nindow).  There  they  go  ! 
Don't  they  look  a  pair  of  sillies  ?  Never  noticed  his 
legs  wasn't  straight  before.  {Sniff.)  And  ain't  his 
shoulders  round  ?  {Sniff.)  Don't  ray  hat  look 
lovely  ?     [Sniff) 


TILDA'S   NEW-  KAT,  g| 

Mrs.  F.  [by  table,  cutting  bread).  What  you  keep 
sniffing  for  ?  I  told  you  you'd  catch  cold  if  you  left 
off  them  warm  knickers. 

Tilda.  [Coming  down  to  fireplace.)  Is  that  old 
kettle  boiling  ?  [Takes  up  kettle.  Then  gives  a  yell, 
and  drops  it  uitk  a  clutter.)     0>v  !     [B^^ins  to  cry.) 

Mrs.  F.  [starting).  Sakes  alive  !  What  you  done 
now  ? 

Tilda.  B-burnt  me  hand  with  the  beastly  old 
kettle. 

Rushes  across  to  Mrs.  Fistiwick,  flops  down  on  the 
floor,  and  hides  her  face  in  her  mother's  lap. 

F.  [unexpectedly  displaying  real  maternal 
tenderness  and  sympathy).  There,  there,  it  ain't  so  bad 
as  all  that.  Let  mother  see.  Why,  it  ain't  even  a 
bit  red. 

Sob  from  Tilda. 

Don't  you  cry  now,  my  pretty.  There's  plenty  more 
better  than  him.  You'd  get  a  dozen  any  day  if  you 
held  up  your  linger.  The  smartest,  handsomest  girl 
in  Chapel  Street,  though  I  say  it.  There  ain't  another 
to  hold  a  candle  to  you.     There — there 

TlLDA  [suddenly  springing  up,  and  dashing  away  the 
tears).  I  ain't  Wling  for  him,  so  don't  you  think  it. 
JI        i  ]  iltured  for  me.     If  ever  he  tries  to 

improve  my  mind  I  11  improve  his  face  so  as  his 

own  mother  won't  know  it.  With  his  'Amlets  and  his 
Rowin 

Mrs.  F.  [soothingly,  taking  up  teapot  to  fill  it  from 
the  kettle).     N  don't  want  no  Rowmeos;  what 

you  wan!  'f  mother's  tea.     [Begins  to  hum  in 

cracked  voice  as  she  fills  teapot.) 

'•  in  the  twi-twi  light, 

Out  in  the  beautiful  twi-light." 


2S  TILDA'S   NEW   HAT. 

Tilda  pricks  up  her  ears  at  the  tune.     She  is  standing 

up  centre.  As  she  looks  across  at  her  mother,  the 
hurt,  angry  look  dies  away,  and  her  own  broad  jolly 
smile  begins  to  dawn. 

"  They  all  go  out  for  a  walk,  walk,  walk, 
A  quiet  old  spoon,  and  a  talk,  talk,  talk, 

Tilda  (begins  to  laugh,  and  joins  in  the  song). 

That's  the  time  they  long  for, 

Just  before  the  night, 

And  many  a  grand  little  wedding  is  planned 

In  the  twi-twi-light." 

Dance,  while  Mrs.  Fishwick  waves  the  teapot  in  one 
hand,  and  the  lid  in  the  other,  and  looks  on  admiringly. 

Curtain  descends  on  Dance. 

Second  Curtain  rises  on  Tilda  still  dancing,   and 
Mrs.  Fishwick  waving  the  teapot. 


JUST  PUBLISHED 


What  Happened  to  Jones 

An  Original  Farce  in  Three  Acts 
By  GEORGE   H.  BROADHURST 


CAST  OF  CHARACTERS 

JONES,  who  travels  for  a  hymn-book  Jiovse 

EBENEZER  GOODLY,  a  professor  of  anatomy 

ANTONY  GOODLY,  D.D.,  BisUp  of  Ballarat 

RICHARD  1 IEATHERLY,  engaged  to  Marjorie 

THOMAS  HOLDER,  a  policeman 

WILLLA  M  BIGBEE,  an  in  mate  of  the  Sanitarium 

HENRY  FULLER,  superintendent  of  t/ie  Sanitarium 

MRS.  GOODLY,  Ebenezer's  wife 

CISSY,  Ebenezer's  ward 

MARJORIE,  )  . 

MINERVA     )  E°enezer8  daughters 

ALVINA  STARLIGHT,  Mr.  Qoodly's  sister 
1 1  ELM  A,  a  servant 

SYNOPSIS  OF  SCENES 

ACT  1. — Handsomely  furnished  room  in  home  of 

Ebenezer  Goodly. 
ACT  2.— The  same. 
ACT  3.  —The  same. 

This  is  the  jollu'st  sort,  of  a  faree,  doan  and  sparkling  all  tlio  -way 
■rough.  A  profcaaor  of  anatomy  is  tared  to  a  prise  Sghl  and  the 
fH.ii.-.-  make  a  raid  on  the  "mill."  The  profcaaor  eacapei  to  Ms 
Dome,  followed  by  Jonea,  a  tnyeHng  mlraman.  who  nils  hymn 

vhrii  li<-  r:i!i  and   playing  ranis  whin  DC  cannot.        The    police 

are  on  the  trail,  10.T01  mself  by  putting  on  a  biahop'i 

of  fanny  complication!  ensue.    The  other  funmaken 

,ir--  aided  not  a  little  by  an  eaoaped  lunatic    This  celebrated  (ares 

has  been  a  tramendou  n  'h<-  professional  stage  and 

to  now  published  for  the  lir-f  time' 

PRICE.  50  CENTS 


SEND  FOR   A   NEW  DESCRIPTIVE  CATALOQUB. 


(French's  Standard  Drama  Continued  from  2d  page  of  Cover.) 


VOL.  XLI. 
1*1  Tb#  Flnu'i  Legacy 

.iriOtl  Burner 
|?3  Adelgilha 

■  .iiente 
1i  Komt  Rose 
it  Duke's  Daughter 
tl  Camilla'.  Huib*.^ 
*S  Pure  I 

VOL.  XLII. 
»  Tlck.t  of  Leave  Man 
90  Fool's  Revenge 
31  U'Neil  the  Great 
3i  Haudv  Andv 

33  Pirate'  of  lb*  ltlaa 

34  LitUe  barefoot 
34  Wild  Irish  Girl 

XLllL 

131  Pearl  of  Savoj 

"    Dead  Heart 

Ten  N  ight*  In  a  Bar-room 
Dumb  Buv  of  Manchester 

Ml  BelphegortheMounteb'k 

M*  Crkktt  on  the  Hearth 

■A3  Printer's  Devil 

M4  Meg's  DW.r»ioo 


VOL.  XLIV. 

345  Drunkard's  Doom 

346  CI 


VOL.  XLVIL 

369  Saratoga 

370  Never  Too  Late  to  Men. 


Yean  of  a  Drunk-|371  Lily  of  Fraiioa 
Sfl  Led  Astray 


.    rough  fare    [  ard 
349  Peep  O'  Day  L  Life 

•..body's  Friend 
351  Gen.  Grant 
35*  Kathleen  Mavourneeo 

VOL.  XLV. 

353  Nick  Whiffle. 

354  Fruits  of  the  Wine  Cup 
35s  Drunkard's  Warning 

356  Temperance  Doctor 

357  Aunt  Dinah 

355  Widow  Freeheari 

359  Frou  Frou 

360  Lone  Strike 

VOL.  XLVI. 
K1  I. »i  tan 
36i  Lu'  iile 

363  Ra.idall's  Thumb 

364  Wicked  World 
366  Two  Orphans 

366  Colleen  Bawn 

367  'Twin  Axe  and  Crown 
3M  Lady  Claticarthy 


373  Henry  V 

374  Coequal  Match 

375  May  or  Dolly'*  Deluaion 

376  Allatoona 

VOL.  XLVIII. 

377  Enoch  Arden 

IT8  Under  the  Gaa  Light 

379  Daniel  Hochat 

380  Caste 

381  School 
3si  Home 

383  David  Garriok 
354  Ours 

VOL.  XLTX 

385  Social  Glasi 

386  Daniel  Druc« 

387  Two  Rosea 
3->>*  Adrienne 
3h»  The  Bella 

390  Uncle 

391  Courtship 

39V  Not  Such  a  foot 


VOL.  L. 

393  Fine  Feather. 

394  Prompter's  Box 

395  Iron  Master 

396  Engaged 

397  Pygmalion  A  Galatea 

398  Leah 

399  Scrap  of  Paper 

400  Lost  in  London 

VOL.  LL 

401  Octoroon 

40V  Confederate  Spy 

403  Mariner's  Return 

404  Ruined  by  Drink 

405  Dream* 

406  M.  P. 

407  War 

408  Birth 
VOL.  LIL 

409  Nightingale 
4)0  Progres* 

1  Play 

9  Midnight  Charge 

413  Confidential  Clerk 

414  Snowball 

415  Our  Regimetiv 

416  Married  for  Money 
Hamlet  in  Three  AcU 
Guttle  A  Gulpit 


FRENCH'S  INTERNATIONAL  COPYRIGHTED  EDITION 
OF  THE  WORKS  OF  THE  BEST  AUTHORS. 

The  following  very  successful  plays  have  just  been  issued  at  25  cents  per  copy. 


In  3  AcU 
Sowing  the  Wind,' 


1  PAIR  OF  8PECTACLES. 

■•»*■  0MTWBT,  author  of  " 

Ac.     8  male,  3  female  characters. 

FOOL'S   PARADISE.      An  original  play  In  3 

-rn«<«v    GBVkDT,    author   ol    "Sowing   the 

v        4  male,  4  female  characters. 

THE  SILVER  8HIELD.     An  original  comedy  In 

SYOMsrf  Qm.ua dt,  author  of  "Sowing  the 

4,"  Ac.     6  male,  3  female  character*. 

GLASS  OF  FASHION.     An  original  com- 
s  nv,  author  of  ■•  Sowing 
,     4  auale.  6  female  character*. 


THE  BALLOON.     Farcical  comedy  In  8  AcU  by  J. 

H.  Darm.kt  and  Manvillk  Fx.nn.     6  male,  4  female 

characters. 
MISS  (  LEOPATRA.     Farce  In  3  AcU  by  Abthub 

BatBUIV.     7  male,  3  female  characters. 
SIX    PERSONS.      Comedy  Act  by   I.   Zanowill. 

1  male,  1  female  character. 
FASHIONABLE  INTELLIGENCE.    Comedi- 
etta in   1   Act  by  Pzbcy  Fkkdall.     1  male,  1  female 

cha/acter. 
HIGHLAND    LEGACY.     Comedy  In  1   Act  by 

Bb*m,<i>     Thomas,    author    of    "Charley'*    Auot.'' 

6  male,  9  female  character*. 


Contents  of  Catalogue  which  is  sent  Free. 


Amateur  Drama 

Amateur  I 

Needed  by  Amateur* 
■at  Painting 
Heading  Club 
i.  Whiskers,  Mustaches,  etc. 


■  Playa 


ria\s 

rleeaoe  Draoia* 
r*t>ork 


i  «t-rr 
Carnival  of  Aatbor* 

Caller..  , 

-  r  Male  Cbaractert 


f  .mWlajHl  Fdltlo. 
braanae  for  Bovs 

HAUasaa 


Evening's  Euterlainment 
Fairy  and  Home  Play* 
itOBMJ* 

French's  Edition* 
French**  Italian  Opera 

vlor  Comedle* 
■-.rutard  and  Minor  Drama 
•..tiilard  ami  Minor  Drama, 
bound 

Scenes  for  Amateurs 
Recital* 


Irish  Plays 
Irving'*  Play* 


Play. 


Work. 


New  Recitation  Book* 

Nigger  Jokes  and  Staaut  Speech**) 

Parlor  Magic 

Parlor  Pantomime* 

Pieces  of  Pleasantry 

Poems  for  Recitation* 

Plays  for  Mi..  Character*  only 

Round  Gam** 

Scenery 

Scriptural  and  Historical  Drama* 


Dr 


for  A 


Stanley's  Dwarfs 

"Spirit  Gum 

TahirauK  Vivant* 

Talma  Actor's  Art 

Temperance  Plays 

Vocal  Mu.lc  of^'hakeirwara't  Play* 

Writer's  Acting  I 

Wigs,  etc 


(French'  %  Minor  Drama  Continued  from  4th  p<ife  of Cover.) 


TOC  XII 

RAevroter** 
1  o*t  Child  [L*tu 

mWasTsiari     W      ■ 

»«  tsrrV-  • 

tU  T-.e41.toos  Tail  Coat 


Xl.ll. 
ttl  n.p;.v  Bead 

Will 


Vol..   Xl.Ill. 
v  '  a  Million 

Ml   Alumni  Play 

'  Hand* 

343  Ba- 

Who 


xr.rr. 

34*  Who'.  To  Win  HI  10 
V»6  Which  I.  Which 

'Tea 

1  Young  Man 
M»  Heart. 

aor  Bound      [I*w 

I     g     a     Mother  In- 
Hi  My  Lord  In  Llv.ry 


SAMUEL  FRENCH,  28-30  West  38th  Street,  New  York  City, 


IW    V»v  and  explicit  Descriptive  Catalogue  Mmiled  Pr~  on  Request. 


FRENCH'S  MINOR  DRAMA 


I/..     «  C    C~~*. 


D«.._-l     »f_l. 


II    I 

Ml 
M1 

Ml 

MS 

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41  B 
6CS 
tl  G 
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ML 

111 

MP 
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JUL  86  1919 


JUL  W  18» 


SEr 


0£C 


22   1928 


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(French' t  Minor  Drama  Continued  on  id  page  of  Cover.) 


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SAMUEL  FRENCH,  28-30  \*  est  38th  Street,  New  York  City. 


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Makers 
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PAT.  JAR.  21.  1901 


YB 


383337 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  UBRARY 


